Erotica
by Sionnain
Summary: There are many ways of viewing modern art, some more effective than others. Set in my Ideologyverse. One shot, MagnetoXRogue.


**Erotica**

The interior of the museum was quiet, sparsely populated on a Wednesday morning. There was a group of young adults who were likely on a field trip—they looked bored—and some tourists milling about, but other than that, there were very few people in the building.

Rogue couldn't blame them. She hated modern art, especially sculpture. One was just two pieces of wire sticking out of a triangle made from cardboard. The plaque proclaimed the title _War in Today's Society_.

She had no idea what that meant. She would have asked Erik, but she wasn't entirely sure she cared to know the meaning, really. So instead she followed him quietly through the galleries, giving a cursory glance to things that better fit her definition of "art" and ignoring the rest. She liked photography the best, and she'd spent a long time in that exhibit staring at the pictures, at pieces of other people's lives.

She especially like a photograph of a tree bent nearly backwards in the grip of a storm. She had no idea how the photographer managed to get the picture without blown away. _Maybe he's a mutant._

It took her a few moments to realize she was alone in the gallery. She left the room somewhat reluctantly, and found Erik standing in front a large statue made of gleaming stainless steel, twisted and curved and shining almost malevolently in the cold white light.

For half a second, she found herself remembering something _else_ made of metal, a union of half-curved circles waiting on a platform. She shuddered a little and forced herself to stop. This wasn't a machine. This was a simple sculpture in an art museum, nothing more.

Erik appeared transfixed, his eyes half-narrowed and unblinking as he stared at the piece. Rogue looked at him, his face touched with shadows from the brim of his hat. She read the plaque beneath the sculpture.

_Erotica_.

"Erik?" She was whispering very quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

"Yes?" His voice, while similarly low in tone, carried almost effortlessly through the cavernous room. 

"Why's it called that?"

He turned to her with an unreadable expression, and then smiled slowly at her. "Don't you see?"

"If I saw, would I have asked?"

"Perhaps you should look a bit closer."

Rogue sighed, wishing she'd just kept her mouth shut. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, giving the piece a thorough once-over. The metal was smooth and looked cold and sterile, the curving lines elegant and understated. It was pretty, but nothing about it seemed very _erotic_ her. She said as much, wondering if he'd think her an idiot for not understanding whatever it was _he_ obviously did about the sculpture.

He merely stood behind her and urged her forward with the lightest of touches at her back. "Maybe if you…touched it…you'd understand?"

"Uh, Erik? My powers don't work on inanimate objects or obscurely titled modern art pieces," she said drolly. "Remember? They only work on people." 

"I'm not asking you to use your powers, Marie. Just your sense of touch. Go on." He rested his hand on her waist and urged her forward again.

Looking around nervously, Rogue reached a tentative hand out. "What if there's an alarm?" she asked, just before her fingers brushed one of the metal curves. "Don't think we're supposed to be touchin' the exhibits."

"Go on," he said again, his voice softly coaxing.

She rubbed her fingers over the sweep of steel in front of her, tracing the lines with her satin-gloved hands. No alarms went off, but no bells went off in her mind, either. "Yeah, it's…smooth?" She looked back at him expectantly. "I guess that's nice."

"Mmm. Yes. Perhaps you should try it with your glove off?" He waited patiently. Rogue didn't exactly trust the look on his face, but she obligingly tugged off her black glove and put it in the pocket of her coat.

"Hope I don't leave fingerprints," she murmured, then trailed her fingers over the metal once more. She heard him suck in a breath behind her as her light touch skirted over the curves and angles of the sculpture.

"You should do that slower," he told her, bending down to speak directly in her ear, shielded from her skin by her hair. His fingers were moving up and down her arms, traitorously slow, his touch light. "Like this."

Rogue had no idea why he was so insistent, but she caressed the metal statue with her bare fingers, back and forth, just like he was doing to her arms. "Like…like that?" Her voice was slightly breathless.

"Mmm. Yes, that's lovely," he breathed in her ear. Rogue wondered if there were cameras recording what they were doing. "Do it again."

"Erik," she murmured, flushing, but she complied and continued to stroke the metal sculpture. She was flushed and hot, and wished she wasn't wearing her coat. "Someone is going to come in and yell at us."

Behind them, the doors to the gallery swung shut. The sound echoed through the small room, loud enough to make her jump a little.

"Do you see, now?"

She could feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her, not touching except for the slide of his long fingers rubbing up and down her arms. The metal was cool and almost silken beneath the pads of her fingers as she mimicked his caress on the sculpture.

She gave a soft, husky laugh. "Don't think I'm findin' the right thing erotic." She looked over her shoulder, smiling at him. His blue eyes were very bright, and his smile was menacing.

His gloved hand slid up her neck, caressed the bare flesh of her throat. Rogue shivered a little, leaning back into him, confused and a little surprised by this uncharacteristic public display of affection.

"Oh, but it is. I'll show you," he murmured, tilting her chin up to his. He kissed her, very lightly, the slightest press of lips against her own. She stood very still, not resisting as her powers pulled at him, as his thoughts and his powers rushed into her.

He pulled away, gasping a bit. "There. Now look."

Rogue looked back at the metal, and suddenly, she _saw_ it. Not as the pretty piece of artwork that it had been before, but as…

Something _else_.

The curve of the metal was suddenly suggestive and it was no longer so sterile and cold. With the help of his powers, it was warm, pulsing, _alive_. It _sang_."Oh…" She _felt_ every single nuance of the sculpture, felt the soft cool hum of it wash up and down her body, and she had to stop herself from…

Well, she wasn't sure _what_ exactly, but it was likely something that would get them kicked out of the museum, and probably banned from returning. For _life_.

"You see, now."

"Yeah," Rogue murmured, unable to take her eyes off of the metal, until the power began to fade and drift away. It was like watching the sculpture settle down to sleep, or die. "That's…wow." Her heart was racing. She could still _taste_ it, a little.

He laughed. "Indeed."

Rogue moved to stand next to him. Her legs were shaking a bit. She kept darting quick glances at the sculpture and back up at him. She was a little dizzy.

He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. The doors opened. "Shall we continue?"

"If you wanted me to see why it was so erotic, why didn't you just do that first?" She asked him, ignoring the strange looks they were receiving from the tour group that meandered into the gallery. "Why'd you want me to touch it? You had to have known I wasn't going to get anything from doing that."

He smiled down at her, eyes gleaming. "My dear, whoever said that part was for _you_?"


End file.
